


Brush

by Sulwen



Category: Glam Rock RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulwen/pseuds/Sulwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments made over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brush

It's Raja who appears in his dreams at night, painted-on lips and long legs and perfect posture, but it's Sutan he sees every day, who takes his face in hand and turns him into the most beautiful version of himself, and anyway the eyes are the same.

Tommy's hovered around the drag scene for years, but Sutan is different, soft-spoken and steady, blurring the rigid line between genders with an artist's touch, like the fading smear of charcoal on canvas. It shouldn't make Tommy uncomfortable. It does.

He begins to anticipate and dread the makeup chair. He's perfectly capable of doing his own eyes, his own lips, has been for ages...and yet he finds himself back there every night, blinking up into liquid brown eyes, long practiced fingers holding him by the chin and turning his face this way and that, catching the light.

He's self-conscious at the best of times, but it becomes worse and worse under Sutan's scrutiny until he's practically squirming, sitting on his hands to keep from hiding the slightly crooked tooth on the left side, the nose just a bit too turned up at the end, the jawline verging on unpleasantly rounded. Sutan's in the business of details, and Tommy knows he's noticing everything. He doesn't know why it feels so damn important, and only halfway wishes he did.

Sutan looks a little sad when he sends him out to the stage, his eyes lingering on Tommy's face until the last moment, and this Tommy does understand. Sutan's work is beautiful, but it's fleeting, destined to be ruined under the heat of the lights and the touch of Adam's lips.

Adam's lips. Another subject Tommy doesn't think about too closely.

There's a ten minute break in the middle of the show, hardly time for anything. Sutan is waiting for him offstage, waiting with a cool damp cloth and a new shade of lipstick. He pulls Tommy close, places a smooth hand on the back of his neck, looks down at him silently. His eyes sparkle in the backstage darkness, and Tommy can hear the softness of his breathing, like a pulse under the floating melody of Adam's voice. He carefully runs the cloth over Tommy's lips, dabbing away the gloss that's beginning to dry in the pattern of Adam's kisses.

When Sutan pulls the cloth away, Tommy's lips are left bare and cool and singingly sensitive, every breath setting him shivering. He finds himself shaking in Sutan's arms, no rhyme or reason for it, just the moment, the way everything feels frozen and on the edge of shattering.

Sutan leans down slowly, closes his eyes, touches his lips to Tommy's, and there's not a hint of wax or oil or pigment between them, just skin on skin, Sutan's lips warm and soft and pressing into his own just right. It feels like more than it should, like something forbidden, something sacred. It makes Tommy want to press harder into Sutan, fit his body right up against Sutan's thinness and tallness and brownness, bury his face in the elegant curve of Sutan's neck and breathe deep.

But Sutan is already pulling away with the hint of a smile on his face, a smile that's a little pleased and a little sad and very, very kind. He twists the tube of dark lipstick and shapes his mouth into a soft oval, and Tommy mirrors him unconsciously, still looking into those eyes. The lipstick goes on thick, a slow waxy drag across his lips, and Sutan's fingers are so close he could dart his tongue out and taste them.

When he gets back onstage he can still feel Sutan's kiss, sealed in under the wax.


End file.
